


to be human is to love

by deathlytireddan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Fluff and Angst, M/M, questionable baby care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-08 03:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11637945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathlytireddan/pseuds/deathlytireddan
Summary: Phil had watched secretly from the doorway as they both yawned and cuddled up under a blanket, one tiny fist resting against Dan's collarbone, a little face squished against his skin.An out of order collection of one shots about Dan and Phil raising their kid during and after the zombie apocalypse.





	1. to be human is to love, even when it gets too much (im not ready to give up)

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Strong language, mentions of child abandonment (srry this isn't an mpreg in the apocalypse), angsty angst angst.

They are sitting on a high stone wall, made of uneven brick stacked together. Dan can almost feel the urgency inside the mortar and stone, the desperation that was felt as it was made. It’d been there before him, and it would probably be there far after him. He doesn’t like the feeling of resignation that goes through him. 

He presses closer to Phil, a line of warmth against his side. Phil’s looking to the west, holding a pistol with an easy grip that both reassures Dan and makes him wonder what the hell’s happened. He glances up at the sound of an engine, feels Phil tense. But it’s only a large pickup truck filled with people, wrapped in rags. Among them are crates of food and supplies. Dan grins, sagging with relief. The truck had left on their only boat over a week ago. 

The Isle of Man was an unexpected safe haven. In the early days it was ideal for the remaining European governments to build their labs. Now it’s an unexpected safe haven, surrounded by water, a high wall protecting their tiny city. Phil squeezes his fingers, a comforting gesture that’s been needed more in the last few months than ever before. He thinks back to Before, when they’d been about to sign a mortgage and get that Shibe, or corgi, or whatever the fuck they were thinking of. 

“‘Least we won’t be eating the hedgehogs,” Phil jokes, turning around on the wall to reach the ladder. 

“You’d starve before eating an innocent hedgehog,” Dan says, wondering if Phil actually would. He turns around, waiting until Phil is a few feet below before climbing down after him. 

They reach the bottom as the gate swings open, letting in the truck. People swarm it, leaving the makeshift garden and animal pens that surround the main structure; a huge concrete thing that houses nearly four-hundred people. Kids, babies, old people who teach the youngers how to farm and raise pigs or sew. 

Dan and Phil don’t have many friends, yet. They’re as antisocial in the zombie apocalypse as they were before it. They keep to the edges, watching the tearful greetings, the unloading of desperately needed food and supplies. And they are overjoyed to see Martyn climb down from the truck, a green bundle in his arms. He walks to them quickly, a strange smile on his face. 

“This group is from Switzerland, believe it or not,” he says, excitement filling his voice. “They met some people there, who’ve created another virus.” 

Dan’s heart jumps. He turns to Phil, eyes wide. What could it be now? He swallows roughly, waiting, gripping Phil tightly.

“They gave us some, too. It’s being spread quickly,” Martyn laughs at their terrified expressions, “you idiots. It kills them! It kills them! And look at this!” He pushes the green bundle into Dan’s arms. Dan fumbles, nearly dropping it. A cure. He can’t believe it. But if Martin said they had some-maybe. Maybe. 

The bundle makes a gurgling sound. Dan carefully pulls a corner away, revealing the eyes of a tiny baby, eyelids still pink and a few tufts of hair growing on it’s tiny, tiny head. A little hand reaches out, gripping his finger. He barely registers Phil’s cooing, focused on what Martyn says next, “we found her in a parking lot. The parents must’ve abandoned her. She needs someone.” 

Dan smiles wetly. “Why the fuck not.”

“Dan!” Phil says indignantly, “we have a baby now!” 

“Yeah, we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Sia's song To Be Human


	2. oh won't you stay with me, cause your all i need

-Week 1, Day 4

The baby is cuddled up against Dan's naked chest, one of his hands resting gently, protectively, over her back. He'd fallen asleep on the sofa reading to her, making funny voices that reminded Phil painfully of other days, sat in their gaming room. Phil had watched secretly from the doorway as they both yawned and cuddled up under a blanket, one tiny fist resting against Dan's collarbone, a little face squished against his skin. 

Phil moves from the doorway, pulling the blanket down to cover Dan's feet. He runs a hand along the tufts of brown, watches her eyebrows move as she dreams. Phil picks up the Polaroid camera they'd been given earlier that day, takes a picture. His little family. 

The change in Dan has been almost alarmingly strong. They've had her for less than a week and already he's changing, growing softer and smiling more, limbs less tensed and ready for attack. Phil didn't know how much they'd needed this until now. 

Phil sits down on the floor in front of them, resting his arms and chin on the edge of the sofa. He never wants this to end. But he knows eventually one of them will be expected to scavenge, baby or not. He pushes that thought to the back of his mind. This strange, mysterious cure seems to work, if what Martyn said is true. Soon they might have different problems, like trying to establish another government. 

He and Dan have talked, about how likely it is for this to go wrong. There are other groups out there, they've seen a few and the evidence of more. It could become something tribal, with battles over territory and resources. 

Dan shifts, blinking sleepily. "Phil?" He lifts a hand to rub at his eyes, pushing at his hair. "W-what's happenin'?" He asks through a yawn. 

"Nothing," Phil says quickly, not wanting Dan to get worried. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'alright." Dan catches sight of the sleeping body pressed against him, mouth going all soft and happy, eyes crinkling shut. Phil can't help but press a kiss to his smile. 

"Love you."

"Mmm, love you too," Dan yawns again, shifting up against the arm of the couch a little. That can't be good for his neck.

"Martyn stopped by earlier," Phil says, reaching for the camera and showing him the picture he'd taken. 

Dan rolls his eyes. "You're never going to stop taking pictures now, are you?" His cheeks are tinged pink. 

"Nope!"

"We'll run out of paper before she's been here a month!" 

"Then we'll get more," Phil says, squeezing at Dan's pink cheeks.

"Fuck off!" Dan pushes him away. The baby wakes with a shrill noise of complaint, looking at Phil as if it's all his fault.

Phil winces. "Sorry, cutie."

Dan lifts her slightly, making a face. "This "cutie" needs a nappy change. Go on," he says, smirking, "you're the one who woke her up." 

Phil complains and argues, but when Dan gives him That Look, says "Phiw, I'm hungry, please?" Phil doesn't have much of a choice. 

-

+Week 4, Day 3

Dan is starting to get a little worried. He thinks Emily is picking up on it, as she's particularly fussy that afternoon when he gives her a bath, and he swears she tries to splash him. Now she's clean, dressed in a fresh onesie, and screaming. Once in a while she stops, makes a sad Ah! sound, and continues crying. Dans convinced the little Ah! is supposed to mean Phil.

Phil. 

Phil should have been back this morning. It's probably nothing. For all Dan knows they could have found a huge supply of food and it's taking longer to get. That doesn't stop him from pacing the room, looking outside every other minute to check if they're back yet. 

Dan rocks Emily, staring out the window. Everyone is busy, tending the gardens or feeding the pigs, sorting supplies or cutting bandages. He sees Martyn talking to Cornelia, who's holding the hand of their little four year old boy. 

"Phil will be back soon, I promise," Dan says, trying to soothe her. He sees Cornelia look up at his window and steps away from it. He sighs. Dan can't help feeling like Emily prefers Phil. He always seems to know when she needs changed faster than Dan, knows when she'll start crying for formula first. 

"He'll be back," Dan says firmly. "He will. Don't worry, cutie." If possible the name just makes Emily cry harder. 

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star," he starts to sing, desperate for her to stop crying, "how I wonder what you are, up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are."

Emily slowly stops, staring up at him. 

"When the blazing sun is gone, when he nothing shines upon, then you show your little light. Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are."

-

-8 Months

They see it on the news first. Pressed tightly together under three layers of blankets, eyes wide, completely silent. There isn't anything to say, really. Outside, sirens are going passed constantly. It's Phil who finally speaks first, after watching the same news broadcast three times, with the same ugly words repeating themselves.

"We need to leave," his voice shakes but he says it firmly. It'll only get more dangerous. The broadcast said everyone should collect their allotted bag, take their allotted train or airplane ticket, and get the fuck out. 

Dan nods slowly, speechless for once. 

Phil turns to him, presses their palms together. "We'll stay together!" He doesn't mean to sound so angry. "Even if I have to tie you to me!" 

"Phil-" Dan starts, stops. 

"Oh, Dan." Phil wraps around him, eyes wet. He feels Dan shaking in his arms. His own hands are shaking. "I love you. We'll figure it out." 

"Sure," Dan says weakly. "Sure." 

-

+Week 4, Day 4 

Phil isn't back. It's almost midnight. Phil isn't back. Emily sleeps away in her crib, recently fed. 

Phil isn't back.

There's no reason for him not to be. It was fucking routine. They'd already known there was food in the shopping center. Dan keeps going over things in his head, what could've happened, where they could be. He's sitting on a kitchen chair in front of the window, a picture of them from years ago in his hands, the edges creased from worry. He's carried this picture with him from the beginning. Now it might be all he has left of Phil.

He curses himself for not using the damned camera to take a picture of Phil. He had so many opportunities. But they were all of him or Emily or both. He swallows, licking his chapped lips.

What would he do if Phil doesn't come back? Emily is here, yes. But there are other people who would take her, who would love her. She doesn't need Dan. Not in the way they both need Phil. 

Fuck. 

-

-Week 1, Day 1

They take their new baby inside reverently, trailed by Martyn carrying a crib and Cornelia with a box of baby supplies. Neither Dan or Phil really know how to take care of a baby. They don't have any baby books, but Cornelia has written them a long list of how much and how often to feed her, what to expect, and so on. 

They also have a doctor in the camp, luckily. He'd checked her over, said she was in perfect health, and about a month old.

Only a month old.

Phil doesn't understand how they could have left her alone, in a random parking lot. She's just a baby. A defenseless baby. He doesn't want to think about what could have happened to her, where she would be if Martyn hadn't found her.

Phil sits next to Dan on the sofa, who's refused to let go of her for almost an hour. "Daaan," Phil wines. "Let me hold her, please?"

Dan frowns, looking uncertain. "Just-don't drop her?"

Phil gives him a look. "I won't drop her," he's trying to be patient, he really is. He understands how Dan is feeling. But he wants to hold the fricking baby! He takes her carefully, setting her on his lap so they both can see.

"Where do you want the crib?" Martyn asks, panting from carrying it up several flights of stairs. Phil probably should've helped, if he wasn't so distracted.

"In the bedroom," They both say. There isn't another bedroom, anyway, but they both want her as close as possible.

"Phil," Dan says slowly, after Martyn has left, eyes flicking from the baby to Phil's face, "what happens when one of us has to leave?"

Phil shakes his head. "Dan, lets just be happy for now, okay? Not worry about all of that." Dan agrees reluctantly. 

-

+Week 4, Day 7

No Phil.

-

-Week 1, Day 1 

That night, she just won't sleep. Her nappy isn't wet, she's just had a warm bottle of formula, Cornelia showed them how to burp her earlier so they know that isn't it. They've taken turns rocking her, reading to her. Nothing works. She isn't even crying, just watching them. 

"Is this bad?" Phil asks, like Dan is supposed to know.

"I don't know!" Dan snaps. He musses his hair. "I'm sorry." He's frustrated and worried. "Maybe she just knows we don't go to bed this early," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe," Phil says, "I could go ask Cornelia?" It's his turn trying to rock her, but he's less smooth with it than Dan. 

"No, I don't want to wake her up. We need to figure this out for ourselves."

"No one figures this out for themselves, though. They have books, the internet, parents," Phil regrets it as soon as he's said it. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you're right," Dan's got his thinking face on. "My mum used to sing to me. Try singing?" 

"Uh, okay." Phil shifts her, suddenly feeling self conscious. The first thing that comes to mind is twinkle twinkle little star. He begins softly, his voice low and a bit scratchy, but she seems to like it, slowly settling down against his shoulder and closing her eyes. 

Dan's eyes widen, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "That's adorable," he whispers. 

Phil sings the song another three times to be sure she's asleep before setting her down gently. Dan flicks the lights off and they climb into bed. 

Dan sighs softly, curling around Phil. "I'm tired now. Did you hypnotize us?" 

Phil laughs quietly. "I'll never tell." 

-

+Week 5, Day 2

Cornelia has taken Emily for the day. Dan's laying in bed, nose buried in Phil's pillow and wearing one of Phil's shirts, gripping the bottom in his fist. Earlier he'd emerged from their flat for fresh food and someone had said it was pathetic. He hadn't seen who, had slowly turned and walked back inside. Cornelia had forced soup on him this morning, but he couldn't stomach more than a few mouthfuls. 

He's angry at Phil. He knows it's stupid, irrational, that Phil can't have helped whatever happened to him. But he's still angry. Phil had promised everything would be fine. 

He'd said, "I'll be back in two days. Maybe I'll even find you a toy! Would you like that, cutie pie?" 

Dan presses further into the pillow, hiding his tears. He is pathetic. Plenty of people lost loved ones, are still losing them. There had been other people with Phil. Why is only he hiding in bed, being useless? 

Dan sniffs, turning onto his back. He needs to be strong, for Emily. He'd thought and thought and he knew he couldn't leave her with someone else. He might not be Phil, might not be as good with her, for her, but he won't lose everyone he loves. He stands shakily, dizzy. It's evening now, he thinks. Emily is probably wondering where he is. Where her daddy is. 

Dan makes it down the stairs slowly, stopping just outside the building to lean against the wall. He doesn't remember when he last had a proper meal. He rubs at his face, sniffs. Get it together, he tells himself. He's never been very good at doing that, though. Even with a Phil to help him. 

There's an awful screeching sound. It makes him jump and turn, feel for the gun he left upstairs. The gate swings open slowly, much too slowly. Dan watches with wide eyes, sees the truck before he really understands it. 

People cheer and run out. Dan follows them, terrified. What if Phil isn't there? He doesn't see him, he doesn't- 

Phil. He's being helped down, one arm wrapped against his body. 

Dan runs to him, wraps around him, crying into his neck. He thinks Phil's crying too. "You-you fucker. I thought you were dead!" He hiccups, almost pulling Phil over. 

"No," Phil says, voice broken, "I promised, didn't I?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Sam Smith's song Stay With Me :D
> 
> This is my [tumblr](https://deathlytireddan.tumblr.com/)


	3. im haunted by the distant past

Phil’s not quite sure how this happened. It seems like only yesterday he was playing video games, teasing Dan for spending thousands of pounds on a shirt, pointedly looking at baby name lists when they sat pressed together on the sofa. 

 

Now they’re here. 

 

Dan is quickly sorting through the last of their supplies, deciding what’s worth taking and how much they can carry. His fingernails are dirty, hair greasy and filled with who knew what. A mostly healed cut under his eye stares back at Phil, seeming to laugh at him. Phil picks up a box of hello kitty band-aids, looking at Dan questioningly.

 

Dan snorts. “I think we have bigger things to worry about than paper cuts.”

 

Phil nods, still eyeing that cut. An inch higher and he would’ve had to deal with a half-blind Dan, or a horrible infection they have no medicine for, or- 

 

They’re leaving because Wokingham is dead, figuratively and literally. He’d held Dan as he cried silently into his shirt, inside Dan’s empty house. There was no note; the house seemed to have been ransacked a long time ago.

 

“It’s my birthday soon, you know,” Dan says conversationally, no hint of anything in his voice.

 

Phil hates when he gets like this. He knows he has no right, knows it’s the fricking zombie apocalypse, knows he wasn’t the one who found an empty house with no-one, knows he might do the same thing if they ever reach Manchester. 

 

“Yeah,” Phil agrees, keeping his tone light. 

 

He feels, suddenly, just how much they’re constantly dancing around each other, lying by omission or just plain lying. Yes, we’ll find food at the next stop, just not this one. Yes, it’s safe here for the night. Yes, someone is alive.

 

Phil starts packing everything Dan’s deemed acceptable into their bags, pausing at the small picture frame he finds buried in the bottom of Dan’s bag. It’s a photo Cornelia had taken, he’s pretty sure, when Dan was only twenty-two and Phil twenty-six. He recognizes the edges of his old house, Dan practically sitting on Phil’s lap, his mouth open mid-laugh and eyes scrunched shut. Phil’s looking at him, laughing too but more focused on Dan. 

 

Phil shoves it back into the bag and spots a can of sugary peaches. He glances at Dan, who’s crouching next to him and putting supplies away, grumbling under his breath. 

-

That night they warm the peaches over a little fire, sprinkling it with a bit of sugar they’d found in the cabinets. “Happy Birthday, Dan,” Phil says, hating the way the peaches taste like luxury now. Hating the way just this makes him full. “We’ll have cake next year.” 

 

Dan rolls his eyes, but leans over for a soft kiss, a bit of sugar stuck to the corner of his mouth. He hums against Phil’s mouth, not much of an agreement. But Phil promises himself they will have cake, and their little house with a little garden, with a pair of little feet running around, chased by four scampering paws. They will. Because what’s the point otherwise?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Sia's song Never Give Up
> 
> This is my [tumblr](https://deathlytireddan.tumblr.com/)


	4. sickeningly sweet like honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cute little thing before I get back to the angst!

Phil crosses his arms. "You're both ganging up on me!"

Dan rolls his eyes. "I don't know what you mean, sugar plum." Dan's taken to calling him the strangest names, mostly because Emily will call him whatever Dan calls him. They've only recently discovered this after Emily went around calling Phil "shithead" for a week. 

Emily pulls on Phil's pant leg. She's developed the pouty face to end all pouty faces, an exact match to Dan's.

"Please, sugar plum?" She begs, wrapping her arms and legs around his leg. "Daddy says you're over proactive." 

"That's right, love," Dan encourages, giving Phil an evil smile. He knows exactly what he's doing. 

"It's only school, sugar shit," Emily says, seeing Phil begin to crack.

Dan snorts, hiding his grin. "That's right, sugar shit. And not even school, just crafts with the other kids."

"Dan. She's only four. It isn't-" Phil can't exactly say it isn't safe, not anymore. That hasn't been a good excuse for a while now. 

Dan's face softens. "We know everyone who'll be there with her. Including," he raises his eyebrows pointedly, "Tommy and Sammy." 

Emily hides her face. "Daddy!" She scolds. 

Tommy is another four year old, and Sammy his older sister. Dan loves to joke with Phil about his bisexual daughter. In private, of course. She knows the labels, they're used around her constantly, on purpose and not, but they want her to be herself. 

Phil sighs. "You've beaten me." He ruffles her brown curls. 

Big green eyes look up suspiciously. "Pinkie promise?" 

Dan muffles another snort. Never on the planet has there been a more suspicious child. Phil holds out his pinkie, another tiny one linking with it. "Pinkie promise. " 

"Then you'll die if you break it!" Emily hugs his leg excitedly. "Maybe we could cel-cel-celeeberalate!"

Phil doesn't even want to know how she turned "celebrate" into "celeeberalate."

"With what?" Dan asks, feigning surprise. Her parents share a long suffering look. 

"Coooookies!" 

"We would," Phil says patiently, "but we're making you a birthday cake today, remember?" 

"You wanted chocolate cake with chocolate sprinkles and chocolate covered strawberries, right?" Dan reminds her.

Emily makes a thoughtful expression, weighing her options carefully. "I guess cake." 

Dan and Phil share another look, smiling. "Do you want to help?" Phil asks. 

She nods, unwrapping from Phil and pushing a kitchen chair against the counter so she can reach it. "Daddy showed me how to crack eggs yesterday," she tells Phil excitedly, "I only had two egg pieces in the bowl!"

"That's amazing," Phil pushes up her sleeves and helps her wash her hands, dodging a soapy hand she tries to wipe on his face. 

Dan's lips twitch. "Emily, we've told you not to do that." He opens the fridge, reading from a recipe he'd written down earlier. "Alright, eggs, milk-"

"Chocolate!" 

"And chocolate. But we don't keep that in the fridge." Dan finds the ingredients in the fridge, setting everything on the counter in front of Emily. 

Phil frowns, rifling through the cupboards. "Where's the flour?" He asks. Dan opens a cupboard above Phil's head, easily reaching the flour and setting it on the counter. Phil rolls his eyes. "Show off."

"Why are you so tall and I'm so short?" Emily asks in wonder. Even standing on a chair they're taller than her. 

"I don't know, sweat pea," Dan kisses Phil's cheek, "maybe so I can do this."

She covers her eyes, making a face. "Daddy, don't kiss papa! At least with me here!"

Dan pulls her hands away, covering her face in kisses. She pushes at him, giggling. "We're making cake! Cake!" 

Dan pulls away, laughing, but she gives him a shy little kiss on his nose. 

Click!

Dan huffs, hip checking Phil. "Stop taking pictures of everything!" 

"Aunt Cornie says to live in the moment," Emily says wisely, still giggling. 

"Then that is what we'll do," Phil says, taking another quick picture of Dan's laughter flushed face. "Mostly."

Dan rolls his eyes. "Menace," he mutters, finding the other ingredients.

"Oooooh papa is a me-nace," Emily smiles gleefully. 

Phil mock-glares at Dan. "Look what you've done," Dan raises his eyebrows questioningly, "She'll cuss out the other kids!"

"Don't worry," Dan says, setting a bowl and whisk in front of her, "we've had a talk about when to swear and when not to."

"Holy shit!" Emily swears, glaring at the crushed egg in her hands.

Phil looks at Dan pointedly. "What?" Dan asks, blinking at Phil innocently. "They're only words. And I think that was definitely called for." 

He swings Emily over to the sink, helping her wash up. "Papa, it isn't daddy's fault," she says, watching Dan pat her hands dry, "after all, he didn't know I would learn everything when I was a baby before I could talk."

Dan gives Phil a wide eyed look. Their child is possessed. 

"Alright," Dan says, swinging Emily back to her chair. "Let's look at that recipe!" 

They show her how to sift flour, somehow ending up with it in all their hair and on the floor.

Emily giggles, watching Dan brush flour out of his and Phil's hair. "This is what you'll look like soon," Dan teases Phil. "You're lucky you aren't there already."

Phil smirks. "Don't look in the bathroom then, sugar plum." 

Emily gasps, putting her hands to her cheeks dramatically. "Papa don't do that, you look like Captain Hook!"

Phil's smirk widens, showing all his teeth. 

"Okay, now I'm scared!" Dan hides behind Emily and her chair. "Protect me, daughter! Don't let the beast eat me!"

Emily brandishes a spoon, poking at Phil. "Die, die, die!" 

Phil collapses, making dramatic choking sounds. "You have slain me, Knight Emily!"

Emily pokes at him one last time, lips pursed in concentration. "Dead!" She declares. "I have killed the wild beast, Lord Dan!" 

Dan stands, clapping. "Thank you, Knight Emily." 

Emily sets her spoon down. "Now can we make the cake more?" 

Dan offers Phil a hand up. "Now who's the old man." 

Emily wrinkles her face. "We're never gonna make cake!" She whines.

"Sorry, love," Dan apologizes, picking up the recipe. He pours in sugar, helping her stir everything together, while Phil takes another picture. Dan doesn't actually mind.

"Alright, now put this," Dan gestures to the bowl of dry ingredients, "into the wet stuff." 

Phil sets the camera down to push her sleeves up again. How did kid's sleeves just magically fall down? 

"Do they call the flour and other stuff dry?" Emil asks curiously, stirring furiously with both hands. 

"Yeah," Phil says, "exactly like that." He smiles at Dan, who's trying to sneak a picture of him as he talks to Emily. 

"Fuck off," Dan mouths, laughing silently. 

Emily looks up, eyes narrowed. "What're you doing?" 

"Just taking pictures," Dan says, setting the camera down. "You're so cute we have to!" 

She doesn't answer that, apparently satisfied, or too focused on her stirring. Phil leans over a minute later, giving the goopy mixture one last stir. "I think it's done, except for one last special ingredient!" 

"What's that?" She looks around, trying to find it.

Dan quickly hides the little bottle behind his back. "Vanilla Essence!" He exclaims, catching onto what Phil's doing. "This makes everything taste better!" He holds it up triumphantly.

(Phil would not agree when, two days later, he discovered she'd put it on his eggs.)

"Can I try it?" Emily reaches up for the bottle. Dan gives it to her carefully. "Don't drop it, it's made of glass." 

She gives him an unimpressed look, looking the bottle over. "Can I try it?"

Phil shakes his head. "It only tastes good mixed with other things. Alone it's too strong." 

She nods, opening it and sniffing curiously. Her eyes go wide. "It smells like-" her face scrunches up, thoughtful. "Like home!"

Dan's eyes widen. "What do you mean, cutie?" He asks. Phil wraps an arm around his waist, smiling. 

"Like the candles!" She sets the bottle down, looking at them, confused. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, we just love you very much," Dan says, quickly wiping under his eyes.

"Very, very much!" Phil agrees, squeezing Dan comfortingly. Dan smiles, leaning against him. 

"Okay..." she agrees doubtfully. "I love you too!" 

Phil sprays a baking pan and they hold the bowl over it, watch her carefully scrape out the remaining batter. Once she pronounces it ready Dan puts it in the oven. "How long?" He asks Phil, who's holding the recipe. 

"Uh, 30 minutes." 

Dan sets the clock. "Emmie, it'll need to cool off before we make the frosting. You can go play, if you want." 

She nods, wrapping a hand around each of their legs. "Thank you!" Then she runs away at top speed.

Dan leans against the counter, watching Phil put the dishes in the sink. "D'you think I upset her?" He asks, frowning.

"Do you think you did?"

"Well, no, but-"

Phil abandons the dishes, pulling Dan against him. "You need to stop thinking I know how to do this any better than you. I thought you'd stopped years ago."

"I did. I just worry, you know," Dan sighs into Phil's shoulder. Even after almost fifteen years this is still when he feels the best; wrapped in Phil's arms. Or with Emily in his, he thinks.

"She uses every name you give me," Phil says, amused smile against Dan's neck. "That has to mean she likes you a little, at least. And even if you had upset her, we would've explained why you were sad, and she would've understood." 

"Yeah, she would've. God," Dan begins to giggle, "she's possessed! Where did that even come from? It reminds me of those 'ten scary things kids have said' articles." They both lapse into silence and are surprised to find there isn't a suddenly stab of pain, remembering what used to be, just a dull ache. 

"You should write it down," Phil suggests.

"Or you could. Why do I do everything in this household?" Dan sighs dramatically.

"Except take pictures," Phil says, amusement in his voice.

"Except take pictures," Dan agrees, trying not to laugh. "Menace." 

-

A few hours later than they planned (something always goes wrong when you have a soon-to-be five year old), they have melted chocolate spread across the cake, not as bad-looking as they anticipated, and are watching Emily decorate the cake with strawberries. 

(If they'd stayed up half the night before dipping strawberries into melted chocolate, well, that was their business.)

"It looks amazing," Phil tells her, smiling widely. She grins proudly, showing off her missing tooth. 

"You should start a business!" Dan says.

Her eyes light up. "Can I, daddy, can I?"

Phil glares at Dan over her head. "I hate you," he mouths. 

Oh well. There were worse fates, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! 
> 
> Today's messed up sentence was: Emily giggles, watching Dan brush hair out of his flour.
> 
> My [tumblr](https://deathlytireddan.tumblr.com)
> 
> Title from Troye Sivan's song for him.


	5. i'd rather fuel a fantasy than deal with this alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and death, but no actual death. I think this is as heavy as it'll get, but don't hold me to that. More details at the bottom because of spoilers, but it's only a few sentences and nothing very serous. 
> 
> Also detailed mentions of splinters, if that bothers anyone.
> 
> I'm not completely sure where I'm going with this story, so if there's anything you want to see leave a comment or send me an ask on my tumblr. I'm open to suggestions! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Dan is so tired. 

He's leaning against a wall, eyes slipping shut with every breath. Ending up at his old uni would be funny, somehow, he thinks. If he could just wake up enough to think of a joke. 

Phil's left him in a dorm room, door covered by a wardrobe and with windows boarded up by whoever lived here before. They were well off, for a while anyway. There are packages of unopened cans and water bottles, everything covered in a fine layer of dust. Phil had said there were no bullets, that was why they must have left. Dan doesn't really care.

He slaps his cheeks, rubs at his eyes. The beds watch him, mockingly. They've been pushed together, one blanket covering them. Whoever lived here must've been together, or were just desperate. 

Dan draws his knees to his chest, hiding his face. How long has Phil been gone now? The light coming from the boarded up windows is slowly dimming, painting the room in strips of golden orange. Dan finally climbs onto the beds, stretching out over the covers.

It would be hard to reach the knife tied to his thigh, to reach the gun above it, if he went under a blanket. Does he care if a zombie comes in, right now? Takes a chunk out of him? He does if Phil comes back and sees it, he thinks.

That's a stupid thought. It's just because he's tired. Just worryingly tired. 

He feels sick, suddenly. He turns on his side, head on his palm. Closes his eyes. "Phil, where the fuck are you?" He says it angrily into the pillow, where other people had slept, had loved each other, had probably said the same thing.

"Goddammit."

Dan squeezes his eyes shut tightly, taking slow, deep breaths. His chest feels tight with anxiety, pulse climbing rapidly. He's not going to panic, not now. Not after everything else he's done. 

He counts in his head, ten sets of ten, just like he did years ago, before Phil, before anything. When he was just a scared teenager. Dan hates it. He hates it all.

He sits up, reaching for a water bottle. It won't do Phil any good to find him half-dead from a headache or hyperventilation. When did everything become about Phil? Years ago, he thinks. Probably years ago. 

The room is hot, confining. Dan pries a plank of wood off the bottom of a window, pushing splinters into his fingertips. He winces, squeezing the skin. "Shit, shit." He can't see them, the skin is so dirty.

He digs around, finds a dusty bowl and wipes it with his sleeve, pours water into it. "Fuck." He scrubs his skin, quickly clouding the water. It doesn't remove the dirt caked under and around his nails, but it's enough to see the large splinters joining his already cut-up hands. 

Dan might have tweezers in his bag, maybe. He opens it, fishing inside until his fingers touch glass. He swallows, pulling out the picture frame. Part of the front is broken, covering Dan's face. Phil's looking at him, hand hovering near his smile like he does. Or used to, anyway. 

Dan opens the back of the frame, closes it. It uses up space, much needed space. But he'll only cover the picture in dirt and blood and it'll be ruined, damaged. Just like everything else.

He shoves it back in, finds the tweezers. It hurts, it fucking hurts, the splinters are large and deep, but he carefully pries them out one by one. After, he climbs under the blanket and covers his face with the pillow, hands pressed to his ears for heart thumping silence. 

-

Dan doesn't know what wakes him first; the banging, rattling door or the all consuming fear-adrenaline-run that fills him. He falls, legs wrapped in the blanket. It's pitch black, the only sound the door.

"Dan! Let me in! Now!" 

Dan freezes. Phil, he mouths, shocked into silence.

"You need to open the door now!" Phil's voice is urgent, fearful. 

Dan finally, finally stands, tripping over his feet. He pushes the wardrobe with all his might. Phil bursts into the room, covered in grime and fading black hair tangled. He slams the door closed, pushing the wardrobe back over it as Dan watches stupidly.

Finally Phil turns to look at him. "I didn't think you'd open it, for a second." 

Dan presses his lips together. "Neither did I."

He can hear the sounds of heavy, lopsided footsteps now, climbing the stairs and falling over themselves. He and Phil watch each other warily.

"I shouldn't have left you alone," Phil says, not quite an apology.

"It's fine," Dan says, turning away. Shutting down. He knows he shouldn't, sees the way Phil looks at him when he does. It's a certain brand of disappointment that digs its way into his bones. But it's too easy, too tempting, to just stop for a while. Or try to, at least. "Did you find them?"

"I-yes," Phil sounds a bit happier, "but we had to split up. We're supposed to meet up tomorrow." 

Dan ignores the stab of jealousy. "You should rest," he says, pushing the tweezers into his pocket. 

Phil frowns. "What happened?" Dan watches as his eyes flick around the room, looking for something.

"Nothing," Dan lies, pushing the blanket down. "I slept earlier, I'll make sure nothing happens."

"You slept?" Phil narrows his eyes. He's angry, maybe not at Dan. Dan can't tell anymore, can't give enough of a fuck to figure it out.

"You were gone for two days, what did you expect?" Now Dan's voice has an edge to it.

Phil throws up his hands. Angry at Dan? "I want you to try! I'm so tired of living this way! We have a chance now! There's a place we can go, Dan."

Dan closes his mouth. His lip trembles. He bites it harshly. "My entire fucking family is missing, Phil," he whispers, voice cracking. "What do you expect?" 

"They could be perfectly fine! I just need you to be okay! I can't do this without you."

Dan stares at him, shocked.

Phil shakes his head, puts his face in his hands. "We're so bad, Dan," he chokes out, "What's happened?" 

Dan sits beside him heavily, lined up from ankle to knee to shoulder. He'd have put space between them before, be angry. But what's the point now?

"Phil," he starts, stops. "I'd like a hug, if you don't mind." 

So they cuddle up on the pushed together beds, where two people had held each other before them, just as helpless and scared. So scared.

"Thank you for coming back," Dan says.

They're facing each other, arms around sides and legs around legs. "Don't say that." Phil finds his fingertips, dried blood falling off in flakes. "What happened?" He asks, kissing each gently.

Instead of answering, Dan buries his face in Phil's chest. "Promise we'll look for them, some day?" There's a sob rising in his throat, one he's been pushing away for a week now. 

"I promise," Phil says, pressing kisses into Dan's disgusting hair. It's desperate. Everything is a little bit desperate. 

Dan doesn't care the promise means nothing. He grips it, pushes it into his aching, bruised rib cage, and uses it like old tape; it holds everything together just enough, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan thinks he wouldn't bother staying alive without Phil, that he wouldn't try to live anymore, but not that he would plan suicide.
> 
>  Yes I know this is the second time Phil has left lol. But I think (or hope at least) that this chapter shows how hurt Dan is and also how far he's come in the previous chapter.
> 
> As always I hope you liked it!
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Title from Troye Sivan's song Talk Me Down.


	6. i don't want to be here if i can't be with you

Phil now understands why his parents stopped at two.

"Emily," Dan says patiently, "we can't have cookies right now." She's wailing at the top of her voice. "We can't have cookies," Dan says a bit louder, "because we don't have any." 

Dan's a little more patient, less stubborn than Phil, but Phil can tell he's nearing the end. They've both tried letting her cry it out before, but they can never last more than a minute. It's heart wrenching, even if she's crying for a silly reason.

Slowly, finally, she quiets and wipes her wet face with her fists, giving them a betrayed look. Dan rests on his knees, wiping her face gently. "You know why we can't have cookies?" He asks gently, rubbing her back. 

She nods, sniffing. Phil finds her sippy cup under the couch and offers it. She takes it, then throws it at Dan. Her little four year old arms aren't very strong, but she's less than a foot away and Phil can hear Dan's sharp intake of breath as it hits his jaw.

"Emily!" Phil picks her up, carrying her into her room. He knows Dan doesn't like when she sees him cry. 

Phil sits on their rocking chair, shifting her so she can see him. "You hurt daddy's feelings a lot." Her lip wobbles. "I know he promised cookies after we got home, but I forgot to buy more. Sometimes we forget things, okay?" 

"Okay," she buries her head in his shoulder. "I'm sorry papa!" 

Phil rubs her back. She understands, he thinks. Trying to explain something to a four year old is hard, especially when they don't want to listen.

She yawns, loosely holding his shirt in her hands. "Are you ready for a nap?" He asks, looking at the time on her dragon clock. It was past nap time as well. No wonder.

"Yeah," she agrees quietly. 

Phil stands, setting her on her bed. It has soft blankets and too many pillows, a canopy they'd made from pieces of white gauze and multicolored silk hanging from a hook. He tucks her in, opens a book, but she's fast asleep before he gets past the second page. Crying always tires her out.

Phil turns off the lights, cracking the door so they can hear her wake up. 

He finds Dan in the kitchen making a hot chocolate, eyes a little wet and a dark bruise forming. Phil settles next to him, watching Dan carefully measure out a spoonful of cocoa powder.

"I'm fine," Dan says thickly. "Just a little tired."

"You know she didn't mean it." 

Dan pushes a mug of coffee at Phil, turning around to lean against the counter. "I know," he says, "I'm sure we did it too." 

"You are tired, aren't you?" Phil frowns, watching Dan sip his coffee. 

Dan shrugs. "Trying to figure out all this ambassador shit, that's all." He smiles slightly. "And raising a four year old." 

"I'm proud of you," Phil says, voice warm. Dan rolls his eyes. "I'm not kidding, Dan. I never thought we could have this. But look at us now." 

Dan's face softens. He leans against Phil, hooking his foot around Phil's ankle. "I'm proud of you too. You're good with her. She never listens to me." 

Phil cups his jaw, brushes his fingers over Dan's bruise. "You teach her about everything. Your stories, the way you explain things. It's the only time she stops talking." 

"But you-" 

"Daddy?" 

Dan turns, face becoming warm and soft and listening. "Yeah?" He sets his hot chocolate on the counter, crouching down. 

Emily scrambles into his lap. "I'm sorry, daddy." Her lip is wobbling. 

Dan kisses her forehead. "I forgive you." She cuddles up under his chin, arms and legs wrapped around him. It looks adorable. Her tiny body and Dan's giant one. 

Dan stands up. She's already falling asleep again, her mission accomplished. "Telly?" He asks Phil. 

Phil hesitates. They really should talk to the council, figure everything out. Dan shifts Emily up, resting her head on his shoulder. 

"Okay," Phil agrees.

Dan sits carefully, Phil covering them with a blanket and turning the tv volume on low, not wanting to wake her. Phil yawns, cuddling up under the blanket with his perfect family. "Don't let me sleep too much," he says sleepily. 

"Old man."

"Takes one to know one," Phil replies. "Now shut up and let me sleep." He hears Dan scoff, but he also feels the blanket tighten around him and a kiss on his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always I hope you liked it! If you have any ideas or something you'd like to see in this leave a comment! I'm sort of just going with the flow and I don't have a definite plan. 
> 
> [my tumblr](https://nostalgiclondon.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter title from Sam Smith's song Lay Me Down


	7. we're like two halves of one heart (or three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is placed a few days after the last chapter.

Dan groans, slamming his hand on his beeping alarm clock. He sits up, frowning when the expected warmth of grumpy pre-coffee Phil is missing. He climbs out of bed, shivering in the winter air. The power must have cut out again, then. Dan pulls on jeans and a jumper, finding his worn boots and sliding those on too. It's still cold, but he's had worse.

A peak into Emily's room tells Dan she's missing too, and quiet murmuring coming from the kitchen leads the way to Phil, rocking an armful of four year old wrapped in a blanket. 

Dan joins them, walking around the counter quietly. Having a child has taught them both how to be stealthy, almost more than living through an apocalypse could. But she looks fast asleep, arms wrapped loosely around Phil's neck and breathing into his neck softly.

"Good morning," Dan whispers. It's very early, early enough that the winter sun is just beginning to make an appearance.

Phil gestures to a plate with a napkin over it. Dan pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and lifts it to find a pile of scrambled eggs and a piece of toast. 

"When did the power go out?" Dan asks, pulling a chair out for Phil before sitting.

"About four," Phil says, sitting and pulling the blanket tighter around Emily. Dan winces. She must've woken Phil up because it was so cold. He hadn't even stirred.

Phil must see the wince, because he shakes his head and gives Dan the signature Phil look, which means "you're stupid but I love you, stop feeling guilty." 

Dan smiles sheepishly. "Sorry." He rests his chin on his hand, gazing at Phil and Emily tiredly.

Phil's cheeks turn very faintly red. Dan loves that he still blushes after so long. "What?" Phil asks. 

"Nothing, love," Dan winks, causing Phil to quickly stifle a laugh. "I just love you." 

"I love you too," Phil smiles. They've grown up a lot lately, less embarrassed about being so openly sappy with each other. Of course, Emily is at the age where she thinks anything besides hugs are gross.

Dan wonders if they'll tell her about this morning when she's older.

"When should you leave?" Phil asks. 

Dan stands to pour a glass of water, sighing at the time. "Should or will?"

Phil's voice makes him ache. "Will." 

"Never, then." He sets the empty glass down and stands next to Phil, looking down at Emily. Her hair is wild, soft brown curls going in every direction. "I'll leave soon." 

Dan wonders if he could get away with sleeping on the couch for an hour or two, hiding away from all his responsibilities. Never mind the meeting they'll have next week, the one they need to plan for today, where they will decide trade routes and even more important things, like when families can move to the new settlement they are building.

Right now Dan wants to stay here, with his daughter and his lifelong partner. 

"When did I get so gross?" He asks no one in particular.

Phil laughs through his nose. "When were you born?" 

"I'll have to ask mum that." Dan's so overwhelmingly glad he doesn't feel a stab of pain, just the knowledge his mum is a few doors down, ready with life advice and possibly cake.

Phil seems to understand, because he catches Dan's hand and gives him a large smile. "Give me a kiss before you go to work?" 

Dan bends down, cupping the side of Phil's face. "I bet no one expected you to be the house wife," he giggles into the warm space between their lips.

"Fuck off," Phil whispers, leaning up the littlest bit and catching Dan's mouth. 

They've finally unlearned all their desperation, after so long, and it's soft and warm and comforting, and nothing more than a goodbye kiss, a see you later kiss. 

Dan stands back up, rolling his eyes as Phil makes a shocked expression. "Your true height is unveiled!" 

"Just think about Emily," Dan says, "we must be terrifying." 

"I never thought of that," Phil says, looking amused.

Dan gives him another quick kiss, presses another to Emily's forehead, lingers as long as he possible can. "I'll be back for lunch, if I can. Tell Emily I say hi," he's stalling, half outside the door. 

"Go to work, Mr. Ambassador. Leave us poor peasants alone." 

Dan scoffs, lingers another moment longer, just so he ran remember the way Phil's hand is around Emily's back and the way she's holding onto his shirt collar. 

"Be safe!" Phil calls as he finally leaves. It means nothing else besides what it should. Dan smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in like half an hour after getting an amazing comment (thank you L!!). So, comment on fics, people!
> 
> Beginning of the title from Troye Sivan's song for him.


	8. no matter how far, don't worry baby, just call my name, i'll be there in a hurry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter isn't as good as the others; I'm getting ready to go on vacation in a couple of days and I had a little writers block. 
> 
> I might be able to write some at night when everyone else is inevitable asleep and I'm awake but I might be too tired. As always I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Also I think ao3 glitched and chapter seven didn't show up in the tag, so if you didn't see it you get two chapters! Yay!

Dan hears muttered voices, first. His eyelids feel heavy, though he longs to open them. He shifts, feels a sudden pain in his shoulder and makes a small noise of pain.

The voices stop. "Dan?" 

He makes another small sound, squeezing his eyes. "Ph-" he coughs, finally pries his eyes open. Everything is blurry, out of focus. He blinks, shifts again and winces. His right arm feels strange. "Phil?" He tries again. Finally he can make out Phil, Emily sat on his lap.

"What..." he trails off. 

"How do you feel?" Phil asks. Emily is watching him with wide eyes. Both of them look tired and teary. 

Dan pushes himself up, ignoring Phil's protests. "Am I home?"

Emily's lip wobbles. She climbs from Phil's lap to the bed, avoiding his arm and sitting next to him. He puts his good arm around her. "I'm fine, love." 

"You're home, daddy," she says, sniffing into his shoulder. 

Dan reaches out, can't quite reach Phil's fingers. Phil cups his hand, traces Dan's palm with his fingers. "Do you remember anything?"

Dan glances at Emily, back to Phil, to his shoulder, wrapped tight against his body to stop it moving. He nods. He doesn't want to talk with Emily there. She's barely 6, doesn't need to hear what happened to her daddy.

"How long have I been asleep?" Dan asks. He's a bit more awake now, more aware of the pain in his shoulder and the uncomfortable pinch of an IV in his hand. 

"A few hours," Phil says, still watching him like he'll vanish. "You were missing for three days."

Dan thinks back to when Emily was a baby, when Dan had been the one left behind. "I know," he says quietly, "I'm sorry." 

Phil shakes his head, eyes wet. They both look to Emily and Phil wipes his eyes. "It's not your fault. Please don't blame yourself." 

Dan isn't sure he can agree to that, so he says nothing and runs his fingers through Emily's hair. "Did they help the dog?" He asks suddenly, remembering the dog he'd given his coat to and carried with him.

Phil nods, looking a little lighter. "Yeah. Her leg is wrapped now." 

"We should keep her," Dan says, suddenly exhausted again. "Water?" 

Phil finds a bottle of water and helps Dan drink, settles him back down and pulls a blanket to his chin. "Get some sleep, okay?" 

Dan nods, turning on his side and making sure Emily is covered too. "Sleep too, Phil." Phil sits back down, opening a book. Dan's too tired to protest.

-

The next time he wakes he's a bit more there. He sits up, rubs at his eyes. It's dark, the room empty and dark save for a few dim lights. His hunger is also unavoidably. 

Even sitting up and trying to move his legs makes him tired and want to sleep again. He feels strange; light headed and dizzy. 

The door opens, making him jump. But it's only Phil, carrying a tray with a sandwich and water bottle. "Oh! I didn't think you'd wake up for a while." 

Dan wants to cry. He sits back, sniffing a bit as Phil sets the tray on his lap and moves to sit on the chair. "Sit with me?" 

Phil does, climbing under the covers on his good side and unconsciously rubbing his arm. Dan leans into him, eating his sandwich quickly and drinking most of his water bottle.

"What happened?" Phil asks, after they've sat in silence and avoided it as long as possible.

"Where's Emily?" Dan asks instead.

"With Martyn and Cornelia," Phil says, patient.

"We were going back," Dan says, opting for short and quick and not detailed. He doesn't want to hurt Phil more than necessary. "A few people attacked us, probably rogue from another group. I fell, dislocated my shoulder. We were separated and I hid in a barn for a while."

Phil says nothing for a while, studying the edges of the blanket and the plain walls of the hospital room.

"I wish I was there," Phil says, quiet.

Dan shakes his head, the idea making his stomach twist. "No, no, no. Emily needs you. And what would I do if something happened to you?" 

It takes Phil a while to answer. "I've been thinking the same thing."

Dan closes his eyes. "Phil."

"Promise me you'll stop doing this? Be safe with us. Here." 

"I can't." Dan wants nothing more than to close his eyes and leave this behind. "I have to do this."

"Why?" Phil turns to him, tired and angry. Not at Dan. Just the world.

"Because I have to make this better! For you and for Emily!" Dan jostles his shoulder, sucks in a sharp breath and turns away from Phil. He feels sick.

Phil says nothing. Instead, he gently coaxes Dan to lay down, rubs his neck until his eyes slip shut and his breath evens out, not asleep but almost. 

"Just be more careful," Phil says into his neck, breath hot on Dan's skin. Dan presses back against him, not quite an agreement but close to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell's song Ain't No Mountain High Enough (it's a nice song you should listen to it)
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr (leave a prompt if you want I'm desperate for communication with the outside world)](https://nostalgiclondon.tumblr.com)


	9. heaven knows there's no such thing as goodbye

Phil is watching Dan watch the edge of the window, sees him pretend not to see the people chasing the train, desperate and tired and alone.

They have three bags between them, clothes and food and nothing they wanted to take. 

Phil's going over everything they left behind, over and over and over again. 

He sees their shelf of nicknacks, from America and Europe and other corners of the world. He sees their secret shelf, with sweet pictures and old letters and printed conversations. He sees their warm bed, their house plants, their books and dvds and socks.

He sees Dan's happiness and good memories.

The train goes around a bend, rocking them. It's faster than it should be, not slowing when it should. No one cares. They're packed together, a stranger trying to lean away from Phil, Phil pressed to Dan and not knowing what to say. A girl was crying before, across from them.

They're supposed to be going to Manchester. Phil quietly doubts it'll make it that far. 

Someone is chasing the train again, after they pass a little town. Dan doesn't notice or acts like he doesn't, eyes fixed purposely on that window frame. 

Dan turns, suddenly, leaning into Phil. They never would have done this before, watched by so many people. Phil realizes, suddenly, that none of that matters anymore. 

Nothing does.

His breath quickens. He finds Dan's hand, grips it tight. His chest feels tight and anxous, insects buzzing around and around.

Dan turns his hand, presses Phil's fingers against his own wrist to feel his pulse. It's fast, but not as fast as Phil's. Phil takes a deep breath, holds it for a long second. 

This is something they've always done. In dirty rest stop bathrooms, in stuffy vidcon closets, in uni dorms and under sheets.

Phil closes his eyes. 

Pretends.

"Shh," Dan whispers in his ear. "Shh." 

-

Dan claps, giggling and love drunk.

He is flushed from laughter, dimples in his cheeks, hair brushed off his forehead. He looks more beautiful, somehow, than he did an hour ago.

Emily is crawling to him, stubbornly refusing to walk, even as Dan encourages her. 

"Please?" He holds out his arms. She finally stands, gripping his finger tightly and seeming to glare, chubby cheeks puffed out in concentration. 

"She's doing it!" Dan says, looking over to be sure Phil sees. Phil is always looking, though.

"Dah-dee!" 

Dan's smile widens, eyes crinkling. He scoops her up, holds her high. She giggles and kicks at his chest. "Dah-dee!" 

"Are you taller than daddy?" Dan asks, resting her little feet on his thighs. She laughs, pokes at his dimples. "Now you're tiny again!" He lifts her again. "Oh no, you're so big! I've shrunk, I've shrunk!" 

Phil sits on the sofa, joining them. Emily pats his leg in greeting. "Pa-pee!"

Dan snorts. "My name is cuter than your name." 

Phil rolls his eyes and tickles Emily's stomach. "My name is the cutest of them all."

Emily shrieks with laughter, nearly falling. Dan catches her easily and leans back on the floor, setting her on his chest. She rests on her stomach, patting his face curiously. "Daadee!" 

It sounds older, more pronounced. Dan's face lights up. "That's right, cutie, I'm daddy. Who's that?" He points at Phil. 

"Paapaa!" 

Phil's eyes widen. He covers his mouth with his hands. She's a perfect, lovely little human that loves him, somehow. 

Loves them.

"Coolie?" 

Dan laughs, kisses her cheek. "No cookies, sorry. We've already had dinner." 

She cuddles up against his chest, looking up at him sadly. "Dahdee, coolie?"

Dan sighs. "Half a cookie won't hurt, I suppose."

Her eyes light up. "Coolie!" She clambers off him, Dan keeping a hand near her in case she falls. 

Phil offers Dan a hand, pulls him up and pecks his lips. Dan pulls him closer, gently. He feels Emily tug on his trouser leg, babbling impatiently. 

Dan smiles against his mouth, nudges him toward the kitchen. "Go on, old man. Try giving her a chocolate covered cucumber slice or something." 

"Dan!" 

Dan smiles mischievously, leans down to pick up Emily. "No," he coos, "she's a smart little lady, aren't you?" 

Emily just stares at him. "Coolkie."

-

Later, after Emily has been put to bed and they've had secret popcorn, cuddled up on the couch and talked about their future, stretching out in front of them, they stand in front of her crib and watch her sleep, chubby hands gripping her green dinosaur plushie. 

They'll be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who has commented, left kudos, or thought this looked interesting enough to click on. I never expected this to get the amount of attention it did-imagine my surprise when the first one shot I post on Tumblr is noticed by two of my favorite fanfic writers and gets more than fifty notes.
> 
> I didn't really plan on continuing this, but I'm glad I did. It's only been a few weeks but my writing style has drastically improved (I hope, anyway). I feel more comfortable with it, too, and more confidant. 
> 
> So thank you all again! I'd never be here without you and I'm so grateful for all your kind words. 
> 
> I'm also already working on another fic right now, so keep an eye out! #Spon
> 
> Title from Pentatonix's song Take Me Home.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! 
> 
> This is my [tumblr](https://deathlytireddan.tumblr.com/)


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